David Mead

Wherever You Are
(Eleven Thirty)

There’s a difference between passion and self-absorption. Both involve shouting, but, usually, only one deserves it. David Mead is self-absorbed.

His most recent record, Indiana, showed that he can improve with age. On this EP, recorded in 2002 and delayed due to a corporate merger, he continues to pump out more middle-of-the-road corporate pop; he’s one of the better contributors to this genre, but the operative word here would be "middle". While more notable than college freshmen favorites like Dave Matthews or Jack Johnson, Mead lacks the more inventive, literary qualities of Death Cab for Cutie and the emotional overflow of early U2.



It's hard to get too upset by Mead's music. He could, technically, be duller. He tries, and deserves a little bit of goodwill for that. He probably feels pretty good about how earnestly – and often – he shares and shares his internal rollercoaster with whoever wishes to listen. He probably has something to share with someone, though he doesn’t have anything new to say. I haven’t seen that Kirsten Dunst tennis movie, but I’d bet that some of these songs would be not too obtrusive in a romantic montage in a Kirsten Dunst tennis movie. However, I need more.

c. 2005 LEO Weekly

Bentley's

Address: Bentley's Restaurant & Lounge at the Holiday Inn, 120 W. Broadway.

Small print: Open 11-1 a.m. daily. Happy hour is Monday through Friday, 5 to 7 p.m.

Why you should go: In a town where some people frequent the same bars every night, Bentley's is a cozy hideaway where you're guaranteed not to run into your ex or that guy you just kicked out of the band.

Plus, if you're looking to meet someone new -- having already dated every ear X-tacy clerk and Lynn's server -- you just might meet a sexy, bored young sales rep from Tacoma, Wash., who's here for only two days.

Why you should think twice: It's a fairly basic room. No billiards or jukebox or lizards under glass here, just cable TV. If you just want to drink and watch Comedy Central, maybe you should buy a six-pack and stay home.

Why you should still go: It's an oddly attractive room; one can imagine that the production designer of "The Brady Bunch" drew up the plans. With a little imagination you might be able to trick yourself into believing that you're on vacation.


PHOTO BY DAVID HARPE

It might seem like a safe, predictable environment, but on my second visit I found myself being counseled by a Vietnam War veteran on -- how do you say this? -- what I needed to learn if I wanted to keep my woman happy. He also told my companion, Sally, that she reminded him of his late wife, except that Sally wasn't "wearing Daisy Dukes and a tube top."

When our new friend became too much fun, the friendly bartender, Mike, was quick to usher him out of the establishment without causing a scene.

Bottom line: If you're looking for something a bit off the beaten path, but right in front of your nose, or if you're looking for something obvious that might contain hidden treasures for those willing to look, Bentley's is an above-average hotel bar.

I hear they serve some food, too, but that's beside the point. Why anyone would go to the Holiday Inn for a steak is beyond me, but I suspect that some people wouldn't think to go there for a Bourbon & Ginger, either, and they'd be missing out.

Joe Manning

The Chapel of the Bear
(Roller Rink Rampage Records)

You probably lost faith in music long ago. Yes, it's become harder than ever to find something that'll make your hairs stand up. If you'd been in Tyler Park one night last summer, though, you could've found religion in the music of one man, Joe Manning.

As he sang songs in the park's tunnel, Manning assumed several archetypes: preacher, prophet, gambler, seducer, lover and mourner. His music seems to have been born at the weird American crossroads where the blues, folk and bluegrass meet and merge after a few drinks. Recording outdoors for the resulting album, The Chapel of the Bear, was a great idea; the creatures constantly chirping in the background will appeal to some but might prove too distracting to others.



Manning is in his late 20s but aware of what has come before him. An a cappella version of a folk song, "A-Roving on a Winter's Night," compares well to earlier versions although it takes a confident singer to go where the likes of Doc Watson have gone before. His deep voice is rugged and weary, an uncommon beauty unafraid of exposure and judgment. Bruce Springsteen's "Nebraska" album is a clear inspiration, sharing an inventive storytelling style as well as a hushed, sepia-toned sound.

"Fall Easy," a Sunday song, falls short of the Velvet Underground's "Sunday Morning," but not by much. Second Story Man's Carrie Neumayer duets on the opener, "The Storm King & the Queen of Burning Little Hearts," providing the perfect partner for Manning. The sparks generated by the heat between the pair is enough to maintain a campfire all night long.

Louisville owes a debt to whichever time traveler went back to the Gold Rush era and found this guy.